Behold my servant, whom I uphold
by SuperiorDimwit
Summary: Some prayers are heard. Some fates are changed. Forever? Yes. For good? Time alone can tell. (Based on the premises set in mellra's challenge "Son of Satan, Child of Heaven". One of those "Rin becomes an angel" fics, but with a different angle.)
1. Father

**A/N: ...I had forgotten about this. ^_^'** I wrote it long ago when I found _mellra_'s challenge ("Son of Satan, Child of Heaven") but I never published it because it turned out to be the complete opposite of what he had intended with the challenge. Whoops. =0w0'= Anyway, I remembered it now that I saw that _ahnikagee_ had published a story in response to the same challenge. And now that there is a nice version of it I feel like I can post my not-so-nice version without causing the challenge owner too much grief.

_Behold my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights_ \- Isaiah 42:1

**WARNINGS**  
§ Physical harm  
§ Religious fanaticism is never pretty

**I do not own or profit from any of what Kazue Kato has created. A few sentences and settings are mellra's, the rest is me modding and tinkering and mixing science with fantasy – as usual. =P**

* * *

Rin rolled over in his bed, trying and failing to fall asleep. How could he? All the things that had happened, all the things that _would _happen or _might _happen or…

Rin huffed in frustration, coming to rest flat on his back. His eyes idly counted the wooden boards that made up the bottom of the vacant bunk bed above him. Shiemi had been crying. Ryuji had been angry – angrier than usual. All of them had worn similar expressions on their faces that cursed day when Amaimon made him reveal who he was. When he had been taken to that court room and put on display like some exotic, dangerous animal.

_Then I shall ask you openly: isn't that _**_demon_** _Satan's child?_

_That is correct._

Rin tossed to the side again and felt his tail make an irritated flick under the comforter as he curled his knees up against his chest. "That cursed day", it made it sound like it was long ago. Really, it had just been two days. Two days can _feel _long, though. He had barely seen anybody except Shura (who threw the weirdest exercises at him) and Yukio (who seemed to think that rules and restrictions were the solution to all problems) and those he had seen…

_Why the hell is Satan's kid here in the Academy?!_

_Why are you laughing as if there's nothing strange about it?!_

Rin kicked off the comforter and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

…and stayed there. He looked at his feet. Yukio was sleeping across the room; Rin could hear his rhythmic breathing. His fingers clenched around the bed sheets he sat on. Yukio, his little brother, who always had to stick up for him when he messed up – and he always did. Friggin' always.

Even if he got up on those feet, what would he do? How would he set this mess right? The others hated him. The first friends he'd ever had hated him. And Yukio was working his butt off to get his death sentence revoked.

"I always mess up." The tail curled in on itself, wrapping protectively around his body as if trying to comfort him with a hug. Rin swatted at the stupid thing, clenched his teeth as the stab of pain brought tears to his eyes. "That's all I am. A huge, walking mistake." The tears started to spill down his cheeks. "I should never have been born." He smothered a sniff, not wanting to wake Yukio. The tail kept trying to wrap around him and he kept shoving it away. He wished his dad would hug him instead. Hug him like he did when he was little and tell him that he wasn't a demon. That all this was a bad dream that would go away.

"I wish you were here, old man", he whispered, feeling the warm tears drip onto his feet as he spoke. "I wish I could be strong like you. I wish I was strong enough to… do something."

It wasn't Rin's nature to dwell on the past. His mind was one that moved forward – sometimes too fast to notice the present properly. Whenever he thought of the past it was because he didn't know how to move forward, so the past had time to catch up to him. Like trickling tears, memories sifted into his mind; warm, comforting. There were memories of sunny days on the beach and chilly autumn days when he and Yukio had helped Nagatomo rake the yard free of leaves, days when the old man had picked them up from school and days when Yukio had been in bed with a fever from too much playing outside in the snow.

Eventually, Rin's tears were drained. He rose from the bed, silently, and knelt down beside it, clasping his hands on top of the warm sheets.  
_  
When you're lost, there's always a shepherd to lead you right. When you need help, He will provide it if you ask._

The old man had said those words. He had said them even if he knew who Rin was. Swallowing a couple of times to steady his voice, Rin began to whisper softly:

"I don't know if You're listening, God. I don't even know if You would listen to me, y'know, because of who I am. I didn't _choose _to be born like this, but... But please – please, I need Your help. I don't know what to do. I don't know where to go. You're the only one that can help me. Please, give me strength to carry this burden. Please, I don't want to be like this, I don't want to be Satan's son! I want to be strong like dad – like my _real_ dad! He must be with You, right? His name was Fujimoto Shiro." Speaking that name, Rin choked back a sob. He would be strong. He would finish his prayer. "He was the greatest man I knew. He was my dad." Rin bit his lip, forcing his voice to stay steady. "He taught me to always have faith in You, that faith is a guiding light when everything seems dark, that You give people strength when they need it most. I need that now. Please, Lord: help me." Rin shut his eyes, breathing out a slow, unsteady breath as he concluded his prayer as he had been taught when he was little: "In Your Son's name we pray. Amen."

Sleep came to him after that, as if the worries that haunted him had been drained by the tears and the prayer. When Rin's eyes opened again, he wasn't in his bed. He was in the park the old man used to take him and Yukio to when they were little. And yet it wasn't that park. Not entirely. Not… as it had been. The light was clearer, the shadows darker, the grain on the swing's wooden seat more defined; like an enhanced photograph of reality.  
Rin found none of that strange, or alarming. He merely observed the scenery, absorbed the scenery, and felt a peace he hadn't known since he was little settle inside. His worries from before were completely gone, like shadows chased away by soft, warm light.

Until someone looped an arm around his neck from behind and pulled him into a tight headlock. Then, his years of street brawls - and recently exorcist training - kicked into gear: Rin broke away from the assailant with a heave, turning on his heel and in position to fight. After that he didn't know what he was doing anymore.

"Bwaahahah look at that face! Oh I don't think I'll ever tire of that. Nice break, by the way. Did Shura teach you that?"

Rin still didn't know what he was doing, so his body assumed command and rushed into the old man's arms. The old man… he even _smelled _like the old man…

"Missed you too, kid."

Rin could hear the smile in his voice as the old priest murmured into his hair and wrapped his arms around him. He was real. He had to be. He _felt _real. That was impossible, though: unless…

"Dad… am I dead?"

"'course not, dumbass." He ruffled Rin's hair jokingly, but with so much warmth Rin was sure he would start crying again. He had missed that hair-ruffle. He had missed everything about the old man, even the things he used to hate. "You're fifteen: what would you die of? Fatal zit infection?"

Against his will, Rin chortled into his shoulder. Yeah, he had even missed the old fart's lame jokes.

"I hope not. But… is this just a dream then? It doesn't feel like a dream."

"It isn't. This is… heaven's teaser preview."

"Teaser preview?" That was just weird – maybe all this was a dream after all? "In heaven…?"

The old priest placed his hands on Rin's shoulders and held him at arm's length, as if to get a better look at him.

"You prayed", he said softly, with a gentle smile in his eyes. "More importantly, you prayed from an honest heart. You laid aside any pride that prevented you from asking for help and humbly requested the strength to face your fears. Furthermore, you renounced Satan." His face cracked into a huge grin. "Glad to know I left a better impression than that old bat. Even though I'll always wish I had been a better father for you", he added, and the grin gained a tint of sadness at the edges.

Rin opened his mouth to contradict that and tell him he was the awesomest dad _ever_, but the old man beat him to it and resumed in a more cheerful tone:

"But this isn't about what I think of you; I'm your dad, I'll always be biased." He looked at him, glowing with fatherly pride. "No, your prayers and actions have caught the attention of somebody way more important than me."

"Who?"

"He."

"What he…?" Rin wondered aloud, turning his head back and forth to see if there was someone else with them in the park.

"Or She, I suppose. Or neither." The old priest shrugged, and grinned at the confused look on Rin's face. "Hey, don't look at _me_: I tried asking, but I honestly didn't understand the answer."

"**You aren't meant to.**"

It was impossible to tell where the voice spoke from. It was soft as a murmur of wind in grass, and yet it reverberated through Rin like a stroke of thunder. And without knowing why, he began to cry. The voice felt warm and compassionate, like the mother he had never known, and wise; ancient, like a father who knew the birth name of eternity. He felt an immense love for that voice, a love that was returned tenfold to him as he was flooded by the light that was moving towards them – or was it the landscape that drew in towards the light? It seemed to hold a gravity of its own, as if all the stars of the universe had poured their light together in a single celestial body at its centre.

A sharp stab in the ribs brought Rin out of his wonder; the old man was already kneeling beside him, and the elbow had been a sign for Rin to kneel as well.

"Wh-who're you?"

"**More eloquent than you were when you came here, Shiro.**" There was a feeling of approval, although Rin was sure that it wasn't his own. Actually, he wasn't sure what was going on at all.

"…well, I suppose Rin is the best example that ignorance is bliss, Lord." The old man didn't lift his eyes from the ground, and although he was smiling he sounded more reverent that Rin had ever heard him be in life. And Rin still didn't get what was going on.

"**Not ignorance**", the voice corrected, and Rin had a peculiar but distinct feeling that the owner of the voice was smiling. "**Innocence. The innocence of a child held captive by a devil's spirit.**"

"Um, thanks…? I just, don't… Who are you?" There were no stutter to his words this time. Instead there was a feeling of wonder, immaculate and profound… like a child's.

"**Who am I?**" This time there was amusement. Could light be amused…? "**I am the one who always was. I am the one who never is. I gave my life for you before you were born.**" There was a pause that made the skin of earth shiver underneath them, made the sky hold its breath in anticipation of what would come next. "**I am.**"*

Rin blinked. He wasn't sure if it was the right thing to say, but figured that if he had made a good impression with his first spontaneous question then he might be lucky with the other, too:

"I don't understand."

"**I know. It's best that way.**" There was something in the voice that could have been a smile, if its owner had had a face. "**I have heard you, Rin. I have seen you, and you have a good heart. I will free it from Satan's grasp; however, Satan's powers are part of you. I cannot remove them without removing that part of who you are, so instead I will replace them. But before I do such a thing, I must ask you this: without the Blue Flame, without the taint of the Adversary, would you still fight against him?**"

"Uhm, against who…?"

"Against Satan. Rin, did you sleep through _all _my classes at Sunday school…?" hissed the old priest beside him.

At this, Rin lit up. He _had _slept through most of Sunday school, yes; because he was a person of practice, not of theory. Practical stuff, he could do - and what God asked of him he _definitely _could do. So when he answered, it was loud and clear without a single trace of hesitation:

"Of course I will!"

In the corner of his eye, he could see his old man flashing him a proud look.

"**Very well, then. Now, return to the world of the living: not as the son of Satan, but as a Child of Heaven.**"

The light poured out in all directions around him, into him, filling him with a warmth and bliss that made everything else fade away from his consciousness: except a distant, familiar voice:

"Go kick ass, Rin! And tell Yukio to get a girlfriend already: Shura's been hitting on him since he was an Esquire! And tell Princess Pheles I'll come back and haunt him if he causes you trouble!"

* * *

**A/N:**

* YHVH: four letters that have racked the minds of countless scholars worldwide. I'm a language nerd _and _a history nerd: allow me to indulge, okay?

My personal favourite amongst interpretations of the name of god is that the name actually is a verb: "to be", "to exist". Makes sense with that famous passage with Moses and the burning shrub where god simply declares "I am" when Moses asks who he is. God characterises himself not as a being but a state; simply "the one that exists" or the one that _is_, not in a place or at an isolated time but everywhere and eternally.

What makes me like that verb is that it's conjugated in a special way. The verb form is an aspect called imperfective: it means that what happens is an ongoing, habitual, or repeating action/event. Literally, an action that is imperfective is an action that is incomplete and still happening. So while "to be" is a generally static state, this conjugation makes "to be" a process. And to top off the paradox, the YHVH verb in the Bible is sentient and acts, like a noun.

I'm not the religious kind, but if I'm going to think of god, I believe I prefer to think of god as something that happens rather than someone that is. If god is in indeed in the water, in the animals and in the trees, then it makes sense in my mind if the nature of god is a process, a constantly changing "something" that despite being transient – water changing from liquid to ice, one life ending and another beginning – is fundamentally eternal.


	2. Son

**A/N. Nope. I own nothing.**

* * *

When Rin stepped into the court hall this time it was a whole different room. Instead of glaring down at him like it was accusing him, the light from the heavy chandeliers gave him the feeling that he, too, was glowing. The murmurs leapt just as hushed about the walls as they had before, but this time they didn't haunt him. This time would be different. This time, Rin knew that he had been deemed free of guilt by the highest judge of all.

Yukio's face that morning had been priceless. The only thing that topped his reaction to Rin's white tail and lack of fangs was his reaction when Rin had told him that their father's sole words for him from the afterlife was "get a girlfriend already".

Rin had tactfully withheld the information that Shura had been hitting on him since he was an Esquire.

The other cram school students had been in varying states of shock and awe when he told them what had happened. But they believed him: that, perhaps, raised his spirits more than anything. Shura had flat-out laughed at the news, and promised that next Sunday she would go to Mass and have a toast of Eucharist wine on Shiro. After a moment's debating with himself, Rin decided not to tell her everything the old man had said either.

Mephisto had laughed. Rin couldn't recall seeing his headmaster laugh like that since that day the clown had accepted him into the academy. This time around he _did _see the fun in it, though. First Satan's son becomes an exorcist, then he becomes a child of heaven. Still, Mephisto's reactions had been a liiittle over the top. He had laughed so much he cried, and had had to excuse himself and withdraw to Faust Mansion for a good hour to compose himself enough to speak normally again. Once he had, he had been more than eager to make the calls and arrangements to set up another court hearing with the Order's executives.

And here they were.

The man who took the judge's pulpit was the same director that had led the hearing before: Timothy Tim… canpy…? Rin couldn't remember the name of the guy very well, but it was something with a lot of T:s. Maybe he was English? Didn't they have a lot of T? Or was that tea…? Rin made a mental note to himself to ask Yukio about it later. If he remembered, he would also ask him why judges had to wear such ugly wigs.

"The Court and the Grigori have assembled today to hear the case of Okumura Rin, Satan's son, a second time", the director announced – a little too firmly, because the speaker system squeaked briefly in protest. After fiddling with the microphone for a moment, the director continued: "A report has been submitted to the Council previously with testimonies from Sir Mephisto Pheles, Honorary Knight of the Order of the True Cross and Director of its Japanese branch, and from Okumura Yukio, Middle First Class exorcist and younger brother of Okumura Rin. These testimonies and observations jointly claim that, following a prayer sent by Okumura Rin one day ago, when Okumura Rin according to himself was engulfed by a bright light, he was subsequently…" The director adjusted his round little glasses and squinted down at the paper. "…no longer demonic."

When the papers weren't needed anymore, the possibly English director put them down on his pulpit and cleared his throat before turning to address him:

"The accused may take the stand."

This was it. Rin took a deep breath, feeling the smile on his lips remaining bright and steady. This was it. This would settle everything, and everything would be alright again. He strode up the stairs of the podium with his white tail on full display, tip flicking back and forth with excitement.

"Okumura Rin", began one of the three robed figures that constituted the Grigori, "you claim that you are no longer demonic; and yet, unless my eyes betray me, you still have a tail."

"Oh. Yeah. Um, the Lord works in mysterious ways…?" he tried, but the attempt at humour didn't seem to impress the Grigori. Following his mood, the tail traced a self-conscious ringlet in the air behind him. "Alright, I still have my tail, but the rest of me is completely different. I mean, look."

Rin unsheathed his sword, the one that had once served to keep his demon heart suppressed. The flames gushed out of the blade, as they had always done, but now they burnt a tranquil, wispy black. Rin smiled, hearing the murmurs that stormed across the balconies. These flames were different. Satan's flames destroyed everything unless he kept them under careful control; these only burnt evil, like the Sword of Eden his dad had told him about when he was little. To the good, the flames were only pleasantly warm. Rin could feel that warmth seeping over his skin, inside and out, as the flames surged through his body to sprout majestic black wings on his back. A smaller pair, white in colour, would be showing by his hairline now. Kuro had tried to swat at them yesterday when he climbed up on Rin's shoulder but only ended up singeing his paw. Rin didn't really know what to make of the tiny wings on his head, to be honest. They looked like something Card Captor Sakura might wear, and he had felt just a little bit silly when he had discovered they could flap.

He might ask Yukio about that later, too. For now, Rin gathered his thoughts and drew a breath of air – fresh air, air filled with the promise of a new beginning – into his lungs.

"I'm not a demon anymore", he announced to the grand hall. "I'm a child of heaven. Yes, I still have a tail and I still have flames, obviously, but they're not the same as before. This isn't Satan's power I'm using. I was blessed and puréeified by the Lord."

A blank look scuttled over the English guy's face. The room went quiet all of a sudden, which allowed the giggles from a certain Honorary Knight to carry through the hall despite his best attempts to muffle them.

"You mean you were purified?" The English guy leaned forward into his microphone with a concentrated wrinkle settling between his eyebrows.

"Yeah, like I said."

"By our Lord?"

"Are you guys even listening to what I say? Look at me!" He turned left and right on the podium so that both sides of the hall could get a clear view of him. "Is it so hard to believe what you see? There's no way I could've done this myself, you know that. I'm not even sure exactly what happened, but I feel better than I ever have. I'm changed, and I thank our Lord for that. Please", he urged the gathered audience. "I'm telling the truth. Please _believe_."

"I will believe what I see."

Every pair of eyes in the room turned away from Rin, and for a moment Rin himself wasn't sure he had heard right. He _couldn't _have heard right – right? That voice belonged to the last person he had expected to take his side.

"I will believe what I see", repeated Arthur August Angel as he strode down the stairs from his seat in the balconies, "when I see you prove your words."

Rin didn't like the sound of that. His encounter with Angel had been brief but more than enough to establish a mutual dislike that was… _intense. _Rin turned on the podium to face the Paladin, not wanting to have his back to that man again. Angel continued his stride up the stairs to the podium with a confident air, holding up an object for the audience to see. It was one of the Order's standard issue hand grenades, filled with holy water.

"Satan's minions use many tactics to gain the upper hand on us", he spoke loudly, ascending step by step towards Rin. "Disguise and deception isn't foreign to them. Don't you think it's very convenient that Satan's son is blessed _now_, immediately after we had unveiled his disguise? Don't you think this is just the kind of trick that Satan would play to convince us to spare his son – his spy? A demon will always be a demon." Angel stepped onto the podium, towering over Rin with a smile that spoke of anything but kindness. "And if you are not a demon, Okumura, you will have no problem drinking this."

The Order's hand grenades were designed to be versatile in response to the many types of battles and battlefields that exorcists might find themselves in. If you clicked a switch and screwed the top of the grenade off it was transformed from exploding device into a regular bottle, in case the holy water needed to be poured rather than detonated.

Rin looked into the chiselled face of the Paladin, so calm and yet so vicious. Looked, and smiled.

"Give me the grenade."

Rin accepted the bottle and raised it towards the Grigori, towards the high stucco ceiling; towards the sky outside.

"_Cheers, old man_", he thought, smiling… and put the rim to his lips to drink.

The change was subtle; underneath the skin, virtually. The scorn and glee that had inhabited Angel's face faded with each gulp Rin took out of the flask, faded with each second that no sizzling and no smoke arose from the boy that only two days ago had been Satan's son. By the time Rin lowered the flask and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, Angel's face was completely void of any emotion at all.

"Thanks." Rin offered him the grenade back with a grin.

Angel didn't take it. Didn't move. As far as Rin could tell, he wasn't even aware that anyone had spoken to him.

The court hearing didn't continue for long after that. More tests were prescribed to determine if there really wasn't a single trace of demon left in Okumura Rin, and the Grigori announced that they would withdraw to discuss the matter with the Curia and with the Pontiff; and that perhaps they might discuss whether this should be recorded as a Miracle, depending on how the tests fell out.

All the while, Rin smiled.

"_Thank you, Lord._"


	3. Ghost

**A/N: Still own nothing. =3  
**

* * *

…pain.

Rin tried to move, tried to shift the weight from the hard edges that pressed into his shins and wrists; nothing happened. His body was wax. Numb. Dead.

Cold. So _cold_. Damp cold, raw cold; cold that ate through flesh and into bone. Rin gasped for breath and felt the cold sting his lungs, make them scrunch up to preserve what little warmth was still in him.

"_Where am I? What is… what is this?_"

The domed ceiling was made from hewn stone blocks, dark grey, with ashen arteries of mortar slowly bleeding out and coagulating into stalactites. Teeth. They looked like teeth, a palate full of teeth hanging menacingly above him, ready to bite down and swallow.

The ceiling transitioned into walls, made of more stone and more mortar. Iron bars, rusted and withered by neglect. The place was a dungeon cell: where… Where, he had no idea.

The stand with the IV-drip looked bizarre in the setting. So modern, so… civilized. It was the only thing in this place that didn't look crude and menacing. It was menacing in a different way: sleek and menacing. Menacing with medical precision that fed an unknown liquid into his system through a syringe taped to his arm. Rin tried to move again, even something as little as a finger. Nothing. It must be the liquid. Some form of paralytic.  
_  
Why?_

That question echoed back to him with every shout for help he called out to the deaf walls. Why was he there? Why was he naked? Why was he cuffed to a wooden board that looked like an old torture instrument? _Why?_

Time spun circles, as trapped and helpless as he was. It could have been minutes, hours, days. The dripping water fooled his ears plenty of times, scavenging on his hope to make him hear the sounds of footsteps in the dark. Was anybody searching for him? Where? Would they… they wouldn't give up, would they? Not now, not when things were sorting themselves out and looking up for the first time in forever…!

Rin's shouts had died off in rattling coughs long ago when they really came. The footsteps. They weren't slow, like someone searching, and they weren't fast like someone coming to get him out. The rhythmic echo was steady, and it grew louder. A yellow light slithered along the damp stone walls. Rin remained quiet, breathing in shallow puffs of mist. He had an ominous feeling that he didn't want to be found by the person holding the light.

"Your trick fooled them through and through, demon. You must be pleased."

His voice had always been pompous, full of confidence and pride. He had, as Shura had so accurately described him, always been a man who wore a saint's façade over a demon's mind. In the shadows of a dungeon far away from prying eyes, there was no need for him to pretend anymore.

"I haven't fooled anyone!" Rin protested hoarsely over his thundering heart. "This ain't no trick, you saw it yourself – the holy water didn't burn me! I'm-"

Rin's breath left him in a grey wisp of smoke that hid the Paladin for a moment. Then it cleared, and it was there again. His face. His features cut out in grotesque light and shadow by the lantern.

Rin could barely recognise that man as Arthur Auguste Angel.

"Satan's son, blessed by the Lord?" The Paladin's voice was low, a cold more unforgiving than the damp breath of the dungeon as he entered through the broken, rusty bars of the cell. "Satan's son, chosen by the Lord?"

The lantern's glare stabbed Rin's eyes. Somewhere behind it, the Paladin's gaze bore into him more viciously than any demon's claws when he hissed:

"You would have me believe that, demon?"

"Angel, listen, this is-"

When the first lash of the whip lit his frozen skin on fire, Rin's pleas drowned in screams.

* * *

Fire. Ice. Blind. Seeing. Blind – again. Repetition. Cold, so cold. Sleep...? Black... Ice. Cold. Ice cold. Pain. Fire. Pain. Pain. _Pain_

The IV drip inhibited Rin's nerves from communicating with his muscles: it didn't inhibit his cells from regenerating. Angel took full advantage of that. Through it all, Rin prayed. Through the lashes, through the stabs and the tears and his body's pleas for death, Rin prayed the Lord for help. Not for another miracle, he didn't expect something like that again.

He prayed that Angel wouldn't notice the liquid in the IV was running out.

"Whyh… do you hate mhe…?" he wheezed on hitching breath. Crusted blood crumbled from his lips. "WhatdidI… everh do to y-nAHHHGG!"

"You're an abomination."

Another lash, another crack of lightning through Rin's flesh.

"You're Satan's _son_."

Another lash, and his system was on fire, screaming at him to tense and bolt and save his life.

"And they wanted to spare you!" Angel roared, and held back nothing.

The cat o' nine tails had always… appealed to him. It had a venerable history in the service of the Royal Navy of the United Kingdom, it was simple to handle, and it did its job; did its job very well.

Each gash the steel-wired tips of the thongs tore in the demon's flesh should have been dealt by the Vatican's executioner. Each one of his screams should have been heard by the hundreds – _thousands__ – _gathered on Saint Peter's Square to witness the triumph of God over devil. And instead… The bastard son of Satan would be declared a miracle. _God's chosen to fight evil._

Angel held back nothing.

And then it flared. The bright black flames the demon had brought forth at the hearing burst out from his body and enveloped both of the men. There was still enough of the IV liquid in Rin's system to prevent his muscles from moving, but this one ability had returned to him. He reached out for Angel through his flames, sought the evil in that man's heart that made him do these horrible things. He would cleanse it away, as God had sent him to Assiah to do.

"B-but…!" Rin's horror pried his eyelids open wide. What was this? What was going on? "These flames should burn evil! Why aren't you…?!"

"You dare call me evil, devil?!" Through the flames – flames that simmered on the Paladin's white robes like harmless wisps of mist – Angel struck him with the whip again. "I am righteousness!" And again. "I am the Paladin!" _Again_… "I am God's champion on Earth!" The whip's wire tore into his eye, blinding him to the snarling _madman_. "It's my mission to purge the world of evil like _you_!"

The black flames flickered around them, not fuelled by anger but smothered by shock when Rin saw the Paladin for what he was. What he truly was.

"You're not righteous. You're jealous." The statement earned him nothing but a whack across his face from the handle of the whip. He turned his eyes – eye – to Angel again, and he pitied him. Pitied this sad, lost distortion of a man. "And you can't even see i-"

Rin choked as the Paladin stuffed the whip's handle into his mouth. He gagged, thrashed, body convulsing as the handle was forced deeper and deeper down his throat.

"Never listen to a demon's words", the Paladin hissed.

Rin bit the handle, anything to keep it from going further down; Angel thrust the whip in. Rin's front teeth snapped off like dry twigs, a brittle crack that fired lightning into his jaws.

"They're poison in the hearts of men."

Rin's larynx twitched in spasms, struggling to suck air into the lungs of his thrashing body. Vomit shot up from his heaving stomach, acid vomit that made his eyes flood and burnt him from inside. The whip kept lodging deeper down, blocked off his lungs and made bright lights dance before his wide eyes.

"They weaken our faith, make our determination falter."

Angel stared him down along the handle of the whip. Bright eyes. Bright devil eyes in an angel's face.

"You think your cheap tricks would work on _me_, demon?!"

Rin's fingers closed around the wrist and the hand that held the whip, frantically trying to free his throat. He was weak – the IV was wearing off but he was still weak, and Angel broke out of his grip with ease.

"Caliburn", he said grimly, grasping the hilt of his claymore, "lend me thy strength."

"Oooh~ For a bad boy like you – of course, Arthur~!"

The IV was wearing off. But Rin was still weak.

Angel held back nothing.

* * *

**A/N:** **Because those who believe** themselves just and holy have always had a hard time accepting it when blessings fall on ones they consider unworthy of them. If we take a moment to look at history, you are quite likely to be killed for claiming you've been chosen by God – especially if the authorities interpreting God's will disagree with you.

**Why Rin's new flames don't burn Angel? **I don't know how clearly this came through in the chapter so I'll give a brief elaboration. The "manual" _mellra _provided said that they burn evil. But one man's good is another man's evil, no? An individual who firmly believes that he is just and his actions good… will not think or feel that he is evil. Is there then evil in his heart, if he acts under firm conviction and intention of doing good; of doing God's will…?

**(I had a second idea** that I won't be writing because it would take too much time and I already have one epic length fic to wrestle with. I'm giving it away to anybody interested in writing angsty, psychological horror about Rin and Yukio.)


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